


the rocks that they've thrown

by bookishgypsy



Category: Dynasty (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21881452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookishgypsy/pseuds/bookishgypsy
Summary: His hand reaches across the console to try to lace their fingers together, but for some reason she pulls away when she feels his fingertips against her skin. She doesn’t even know why she pulls away from him; there’s just some sort of static that hits her when she feels him try to tug at her hand and she can’t handle it. // #falliamfrenzy week two
Relationships: Fallon Carrington/Liam Ridley
Comments: 5
Kudos: 39





	the rocks that they've thrown

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't want to contribute to the 'Liam Ridley's kid fics,' but here we are, I guess. It's also 11:15pm so I can't be held accountable for any spelling and grammar mistakes.

Meeting the child he had as a teenager was one of those bridges she never thought she was going to actually have to cross.

But, of course, when Laura Van Kirk was involved in the matter, she should have known better. She should have immediately thought when Liam told her about this child that his mother could have been lying about the adoption, could have paid this girl off to keep quiet, could have done a number of a thousand different things that would have ended up in her own son being the victim of her hurt.

But, she didn’t think that way in the moment, no. 

Maybe for her own sanity, maybe for the sake of their relationship being tested even further than it already had been. Maybe because Liam was so truthful and honest with her and she really had no reason to doubt him. 

And he _didn’t_ lie to her - he was lied _to_ for the past ten years of his life all the same, not knowing the truth behind his own _child_ because his mother thought his life was a game she could just play with for her own personal gain. His daughter was never given up for adoption. She was out there in London, living and growing up for the past ten years with her biological mother, a high school crush of his that he probably didn’t even truly care for that much at the time. 

But here they both were, driving back from a hotel in downtown Atlanta where they _both_ had just met Liam’s daughter, Isabelle, for the first time. 

Things are anything but comfortable as they rode back to the manor in his car; there’s this tense air surrounding the two them that they really haven’t ever experienced together before, a heaviness filling the air that she doesn’t quite know how to break. 

His hand reaches across the console to try to lace their fingers together, but for some reason she pulls away when she feels his fingertips against her skin. She doesn’t even know why she pulls away from him; there’s just some sort of static that hits her when she feels him try to tug at her hand and she can’t handle it. 

It’s all too much.

And she’s not even mad at _him_ , she has no reason to be. 

She’s not even _mad_. 

She’s just…overwhelmed, she thinks.

That’s gotta be it, she reasons with herself; she’s overwhelmed. 

“Can I hold your hand?”

She doesn’t even respond to his question, she just finds herself turning her body to face the passenger side window to hide herself as best she can from him right now. She pushes her forehead against the cool window, trying to calm herself and all the outcomes of this situation that are blazing through her mind at lightening speed. 

It’s not everyday you meet the ten year old daughter of the man you were planning to spend the rest of your life with; it made you think, spun the wheels in your mind about where this thing was headed, what his child added to your relationship and how it was going to change things. 

She’s relived when she sees her street in the distance, finding their car rolling through the gate just a mere few moments later. And when she finds them parking in the front entrance, she’s quick to exit the passenger side of his car and head straight up the staircase. She hears him shuffle behind her quickly, calling out after her but she ignores the sound of his voice calling her name. She only continues the trek to her bedroom, feeling the air in her chest constrain faster and faster by the second. 

It’s the same way heavy feeling she would get when there was storms looming in the area and she knew if she didn’t gain control of her breathing she’d land herself in the middle of a panic attack. 

She sits at the edge of her bed feeling utterly and completely drained. She tries to even her breathing, but it seems to only be getting worse with each breath she tries to take; exasperated and uneven. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” 

She hears his voice before she sees him turn the corner to her bedroom and she looks up immediately at the sound of his voice; because as much as she doesn’t want to face him in this moment she can’t deny that she _needs_ him to pull her out of this. The room is spinning and she’s unable to focus on any one thing but _him_ and she can’t be more relieved when he rushes straight to her side.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says in the softest and warmest of tones. He comes up to sit by her side on the edge of her bed, pulling her in tightly to his chest and she’s happy to fall right into his embrace. “It’s alright. It’s okay. I’m right here, okay?”

She turns into him, burying her face against his flannel shirt and gripping at his sides just as tightly as he’s holding on to her. There’s an immediate relief from his touch alone, an instant calm that washes over her like a wave breaking when it meets the shore. 

She’s just still stuck out in the deep end and needs someone (him) to bring her to the shallow. 

“Deep breaths, alright?” His hand starts making comforting patterns against the small of her back, tiny little circles with his thumb in an attempt to calm her breathing. He pulls her back a touch, keeping her at arms length and cupping the sides of her face with both of his warm hands. “Breath in for four counts, breathe out for six.”

She keeps his eyes on his and follows his advice until after a few repetitive deep breaths, she finds herself breathing slower and regular again. She collapses against his chest and he pulls her in tightly, resting his head against the top of hers that’s buried into the crevice of his neck. 

“Better?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that, _that_ ….” she trails off with her words when there’s almost no volume on the last word she speaks. “Was a lot to take in.”

He’s fast to press his lips against the top of her head that feels full of love and comfort and warmth. She relishes in the way the silence between them isn’t heavy or uncomfortable anymore, it’s comforting and calming; a different story to how things were only minutes ago in the car. 

“She looks like you, you know,” she speaks up again, soft; her words barely above a whisper. “She has your eyes.”

She feels his lips move against her skin when he says, “Kind of weird, isn’t it?”

They slip back into silence once more, which frees her mind again to start running wild with the possibilities of this situation. This kid was more than just a thought now, was more than just words uttered between them and this person, this _child_ , added a whole lot more to their relationship than just a memory he’d left behind. 

  
“So,” she trails the vowel off at the end, letting the uncertainty linger for a moment. She reaches for his free hand, tangling their fingers together, trying to hold on to this, to _him_ , for as long as she can. “Where does this leave us? Where does this leave me?”

“What?” There’s the tiniest bit of a giggle that comes out with his words that confuses her, because she could see _so_ clearly what was going to happen with them now that Isabelle was in the picture; why couldn’t he? “Fal, what are you talking about?”

“I mean, I assume you’re going to want to be with your daughter. You’re going to want to be a part of her life and you’re going to want to spend time with her,” she tapers off; the next words hurt to say, choking back on a sob she refuses to let come to the forefront. She didn’t cry, she _wouldn’t_ cry. “And watch her grow up.” 

She pauses to take a breath, her voice cracking on the last syllable she was able to form. She didn’t want to cry, but it was getting harder and harder to keep everything she was feeling at bay. She feels the first salty drop of liquid fall from the corner of her eye, and his fingers are quick to move up and wipe it off her cheek. But that only stirs her more, a domino affect, allowing a few more to follow suit. 

“And then you’ll start spending more time with _her._ ”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” She feels him drop their tangled fingers, holding her back at arms length and looking deep into her eyes. “Babe, I love _you._ ”

“Sure, right now,” she reasons, more so with herself than him, she thinks; that little voice inside her head always trying to counter the. “But what if that changes?”

“It’s not going to change, Fal. I love you and I’m not going anywhere,” he says, moving his thumb softly against the skin of her cheek. “You are letting your mind go to places it does not need to go.”

She can feel the panic building in her again, despite his reassuring words, but it’s different this time; she’s not trying to catch her breath and her mind isn’t reeling anymore with thoughts of his long lost child coming into their lives - but she feels the tears building behind her blue eyes at the realization of what this whole situation boiled down to for her. 

She was terrified to lose him.

Even though he was right here, _always_ , telling her he loved her and that he was going to stick by her side through _anything_ and he was in this for the long haul, just like she was. She hadn’t scared him off yet and he constantly told her nothing would. 

But that still didn’t take away the fear, take away that anxiety of that feeling or the thought that one day he’d wake up and realize he didn’t want to be with her anymore, or that one day he’d figure out she really isn’t worth it. 

“It’s okay to cry, Fal, I’m not going to judge you for that,” he mutters, threading his fingers through her long curls. “Vulnerability doesn’t make you weak the way it’s been drilled into your head over and over again.”

She feels the tears sparkle in her eyes, a stray managing to make it’s way down her cheek once again, but he catches it with his thumb before it has the chance to trail down her face completely. 

“I guess it was just a lot to see that there’s a little you out there…..but it’s with someone else,” she says, softly. “I guess I kind of just thought that…that if there was a mini _you_ out there in the world…it’d be a mini me, too.”

“Fallon.”

“It’s stupid, I know,” she interrupts him fast, shaking her head left to right in the process. “I’d be a terrible mother, anyways.”

“You’d be the best mother,” He smiles warmly at her when he responds, moving his thumb against the skin underneath her eye; she assumes a few more tears escaped her despite her not feeling them slip out of the corner. “Did you wanna have kids one day?”

“With you?” She looks up, eyes finding his against the glow of the afternoon sunlight beaming through her windows, finding the most comfort and love she’s ever found staring back at her. She smiles when she finishes with, “Yeah.”

He motions with his head to the array of pillows on her bed, tugging her hand when he pulls her back with him. They fall against each other easily, puzzle pieces fitting so snug and perfectly together, like their bodies were made for each other and each other only. She nuzzles her head into his chest, the feeling of him rubbing his fingers against the fabric of her shirt bringing her to a feeling of utter content, her eyelids feeling heavy against him. 

She feels lighter, like the weight that’d been sitting on her chest the whole afternoon, the whole _week_ leaning up to this, was finally lifted up off her. And as she lets her eyes flutter shut against him, allowing her body to succumb to the tiredness that the whole situation had caused the both of them, she realizes this: they’d get through this whole ordeal like they did anything else.

_Together_. 


End file.
